


Lending a Hand

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 21:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13819395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Luke Skywalker and company have just flown away from the Imperial Forces and escaped their capture by Darth Vader. Now, alone and quiet as they make their escape back to the Rebel Alliance, they are able to reflect on their actions and their past. Lando Calrissian and Luke Skywalker form a rapport as they comfort one another, aware of the other's pain and discomfort, and attempt to help each other heal from their wounds.





	Lending a Hand

The dull yet constant throb of his aching arm reminded Luke Skywalker that he was still alive. Pain – it was the only feeling that pushed through the malaise and nausea of his spinning head. Everything was in such a terrifying dreamstate, where his peripheral vision was essentially blurred and unable to be deciphered. There was nothing but a straight tunnel ahead, a looming and suffocating trap that would soon close in and consume the youth until he was nothing left but an empty vessel.

“Vader,” whimpered the Jedi as he thrashed around on the cot, sweat from his own fear and fever seeping out of his body and staining the makeshift bed, aware that he was dreaming but unable to escape the paralyzing maze that kept him captured. Surrounding him in this dark haze was the labored breathing of the Dark Lord – the sick sloshing of the lightsaber meeting his flesh and bone and his shrill scream afterword – and then a commanding echo of his name: Luke.

Darth Vader’s voice did not stop as he struggled about in the bed, his left hand clawing at the blanket and his right arm flailing in the air ahead of him as he attempted to free himself from the nightmare. There was a sudden silence – and then a catastrophic fall. The young Jedi remembered the frantic fall from the tower, his lungs begging for him to scream but his own pride forcing them shut, the reminder of the slam of his body against the metallic pipe of the weathervane jerking himself up in bed.

No one would heed his call. Ben didn’t answer – he knew that he wouldn’t be able to but the futility of the moment made him reach out in desperation. Then, as his torso flopped upside-down against the wind of the gas planet, he instinctively reached out for Leia. His friend called – he felt her voice inside his head. And before he could even remember opening up his eyes, the familiar hum of the Millennium Falcon rang underneath.  
And there he was – that man.

This wasn’t a person that Luke had ever seen before. All he could recall was looking down and seeing a strange man emerge from the Falcon, his arms outstretched and waiting for him to jump to his embrace. Light surrounded him like a halo to an angel, and without hesitation, Skywalker heaved himself off the leg of the weathervane and into the arms of this man. He cradled Luke in his arms carefully as his hand combed through his drenched hair, whispering to him kind assurances as they descended into safety below.

So much darkness in this dream now. All around Skywalker were reminders of his past, of his present, and of his potentially unfortunate future. In the eyes of the Princess, he saw a broken woman distraught and in pain; pain that was in his name. Pain that his father – Vader caused. Chewbacca sat tight in the co-pilot’s chair, wrestling around with the equipment and struggling to get them back on track and safe. There was sadness and rage in his grunts and wails, of an individual missing their companion and friend.

There were also the constant reminders of someone else, someone very dear, that Skywalker did not want to think about. Not yet, at least. But they were everywhere; from the tan jacket lying on the floor inches away from the cockpit, to the grease-stains by the pilot’s seat, to the silence of his sarcastic wit and arrogance that was deafening to everyone in the cockpit. The shadow of Han Solo loomed over them all.

That was painful – something he had to shut out desperately.

Everything was dark and dreary and a reminder of some form of pain. There had to be something new there, something to focus in on and take in and distract him from his whole world shutting down. Before he had any time to think about what might be, there was a firm hand on his waist. Luke remembered that taking him by surprise – he turned around and faced the concerned face of the angel that saved him. “Lando,” the Jedi said in his sleep and began calming down, his only hand reaching down to grab onto and squeeze that promising figure.

His face left Luke in awe. Those gentle brown eyes, that thick mustache that danced and swirled around his lips, the generous and sweet smile that reassured him that he would be okay. He smiled back in this dreamlike haze and turned fully around to allow himself to collapse in his arms. Luke didn’t do this when it really happened – he couldn’t. He had to be the strong Jedi Knight that defined his very character and couldn’t break that for anything. But this was a dream and dreams were made for fantasy.

It had been a long time since he fantasized.

“Lando,” he said aloud, feeling his body flush and his flesh extend as the man wrapped his arms around his waist; desire overtook Luke as he felt those arms squeeze around him, pulling him in deeper and deeper into his light. Their eyes crossed one another and the space between them went silent. The man beamed a great smile at him and held him close.

“You rang?”

Luke awoke from his slumber with a jolt. The suave and decorated voice of Lando filled the room and triggered the Jedi Knight. The man sat close to him, smiling just as deep as he imagined, his hand pushing back the sweaty bangs that stuck to Luke’s forehead. He gulped as he felt his face go red, noticing an intense pressure building in his groin. Luke looked down at himself and noticed a prominent bulge extending out from his fatigues. He quickly reached for the blanket and covered himself in it, sitting up and smiling bashfully at his rescuer.

“Relax,” Lando said, reaching for Luke’s maimed arm – which he had all but forgotten about at that moment – to take a look at his vital signs. “Everything seems to be holding up good. For a man who just lost his hand, you look practically glowing.” Luke bowed his head at the comment, dipping down as he felt the steady thump of pain from his arm trickle back into his nerves. “Leia just went to bed. She was gonna stay up with you all night but I promised her I would take really good care of you. I owe her one. The Princess has been through quite an ordeal herself. She could use the rest.”

“So could you,” Luke choked back, surprised at just how dry and raspy his voice was. His throat felt sickly and raw as he swallowed, the agony rekindling his horrified screams in the aftermath of his duel with Darth Vader.  
“That may be true,” he stated to himself, slumping back into his seat. “Though I hardly deserve it.”

That seemed odd to Luke. Everyone deserves their rest – a break from their tribulations and mistakes. The Jedi knew the situation of what happened on Cloud City. There must have been a similar and shared guilt that Lando felt that ran concurrent with his own. He wanted to speak to him, reassure him, tell him that everything would work out perfectly in the end.. but he couldn’t even convince himself of that. How was he supposed to soothe a total stranger if he couldn’t fix his own fragile soul?

“How you doing, kid?”  
  
Kid – funny how hearing that word brought the young Jedi into two different worlds. The first was comforting and wholesome, reminding him of gentler times and the friendly companionship that his dear friend Han Solo had offered him in the past. The word brought him back to the chilled expanses of space, their brains eager and their hearts restless, ready to take on the entire universe. “Kid,” Han used to call him, laden with just the right amount of playfulness and endearment. The man knew that that got under his skin every now and then, antagonizing him, but it was all play.  
  
The second realization was much grimmer. Leia had briefed Luke on just what had happened to Han on that city in the clouds, the torture and hell he had to endure before being encased in solid carbonite. Kid – that reminded him of the importance of that man, and how the lack of him, the potential future without him, left a hollow void within the Jedi Knight.  
  
Maybe it wasn’t that man’s right – Lando – to say that phrase.  
  
Though, truth be told, hearing it made him feel that much better. “As good as it can get,” Luke choked back a laugh, groaning in pain as he sensed the dead weight of his forearm crush against the spasming nerve that ran up and down his entire arm. “For someone who lost their arm.”

“I gotta say that what you did had a lot of guts,” Lando stated as he relaxed and began to slouch next to him, his hands crossing over his face, as if to protect himself. Maybe there was a hint of guilt to his compliment? That was something they both could readily share. “Taking on Vader one on one. I don’t even know how you were able to take him on and survive. I’ve seen that wizard crush people in a blink of an eye.”

“I think you might be overstating it a bit.”

“Perhaps,” his rescuer said as he lowered his hands from his face, a wry grin shining through as his teeth beamed back at the Jedi. “I’m new at this. Not, uh, talking but comforting someone. Cloud City always had a strong focus on teamwork and accountability. We never really had much accidents or injuries. It was like its own little utopia, the dream civilization floating on nothing but wonder and space.”

So much sadness gleamed in those brown eyes of his. Luke wondered if that was a reflection of his own deadened eyes, forlorn and empty from the fall of his universe crumbling down atop his soul. This man had saved him once before – maybe, if they both attempted to talk, they could escape the crushing weight of their past. He had to at least attempt to make him feel better; after all, that was why Lando was trying to do for him.

“There wasn’t much time for me to take a look but if you’re anything like it, I bet it was a wonderful place.”

Lando let out a loud laugh and looked down to his hands and back to Luke, staring directly into his blue eyes. There was a low and uneasy quiet between the two men as Lando’s laugh trailed off into something far more mysterious. The Jedi felt as if he were being studied; monitored with care and curiousness. His gaze radiated warmth to Luke.. who simply stared back in awe at the man. “I’m merely a product of my home,” whispered Lando. “What about you? Where are you from?”

“The better question would probably be were instead of are,” Luke corrected. “I don’t really have a home. Not anymore. I was raised on a planet farther out – Tatooine- and lived there for most my life as a farmer for my uncle. But it wasn’t ever really a place I would call home. I always felt more at home laying out in the sand and staring up at the stars; wondering if there was more to this life than just being the rotten joke to some friends.”

“And now that you are one with the stars… would you say it is home?”

“I’m not sure.”

Had the youth been asked this question even a day before, Luke would have said an earnest and proud “yes.” That was all he had ever wanted, even as a small boy. To be among the stars and worlds, flying his own ship and going into dangerous space battles, claiming his own destiny in a universe that always seemed to be growing; becoming the last Jedi Knight was dessert to the already full course. 

“I guess I’m in a similar place as you. My home has been taken from me, at least for now, and I don’t have a place to go in this great galaxy except for where my luck takes me. I don’t know if the Alliance will take me – after what I did,” hissed Lando, crossing his arms as he bit on his lip. That same feeling of dejection and fear that tormented Luke from within was palpable inside him. “But if it isn’t a bother to you, I wouldn’t mind staying by your side and help you do whatever it is you want to do next. Whether that is rescuing our buddy or going after Vader himself or running away from it all. I take it that it wasn’t a coincidence that I run into and end up saving the last Jedi Knight in this entire universe.”

“I’m no Jedi,” stated Luke as he stared down at wounded arm to the belt hanging to the side of the wall, noticing the bare holster that once contained his great weapon. The pride and joy of the Skywalker name had been robbed of him, sliced off so crudely and spun into a great expanse, tarnished by the upcoming truth. That weapon maybe once belong to a Jedi Knight – but it also belonged to a great villain. The cyan light had cut through just as much innocent lives as it had saved. 

But the youth couldn’t ignore the pleading eyes of a desperate man. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do once they help me – but if there is one thing I’ve learned in the past few years, it is to never ignore a friend in need. You can follow me anywhere, Lando,” Luke said with complete certainty. That wouldn’t be too bad – to have a friend so close to his side. Maybe they both were in need of one another and this was an opportunity that was destined to be made. 

“Ahh!” Luke winced as he felt a shooting pain just below the cuff of the tourniquet that grabbed tightly to his mangled wrist. He elevated it and brought it close to his chest – his eyelids closed shut in an attempt to shut out the pain – which caused Lando to automatically close in on Luke and hold his arm with tender care, studying it and tweaking with the circuitry and wires until he finally relaxed. 

He opened his eyes and noticed just how close the face of his rescuer was to his own – the smell of his deep breathing consuming and intoxicating the young Jedi. Luke sensed his lips part, trembling as they stared back deep into the brown eyes of Lando, feeling the intense heat of his closeness. “Thanks,” Luke finally said as Lando appeared to hold steady close to him. He saw his lips part as well, passion entering into his eyes.

“Better?”

Luke didn’t know what to say as he struggled to compose himself. His eyes were fluttering and struggling to stare back into his eyes, noticing the smaller details of the man’s lips and nose, the fine hair that was wedged between them both, suddenly wondering how that would feel pressed against his own skin. He felt the flesh hidden beneath his fatigues extend, pressure building and yearning to be released and set free. The Jedi looked down and noticed a rather prominent bulge in Lando as well – could it be true? Was this a mutual feeling between them both? He was tempted to make his move. “Great,” he finally squeaked out as he felt himself draw closer to his lips. 

There wasn’t even a slight second of hesitation as Lando drew himself onto Luke, their lips touching and pressing against one another like a perfect match, locking into place as their desire started to take forth.

Luke moaned as he felt the mustache of his rescuer prickle against the smooth pores of his upper lip and rub up and down, dancing delicately to peck. His eyelids shut tight, Luke completely took in the savory taste of another man; the way their lips responded to the other, his own quivering in a mixture of anticipation and the recovering shock from his wound. That was the first time he’d even attempted something so sensual with another being – but there wasn’t a moment to respond, pause and reflect. His aching body yearned for more from the man, eager and greedy for the continued touch of a stranger. He could feel his own sex throbbing underneath the confines of his fatigues.

“Lando,” Luke groaned as he scooted toward the side of the bed, carefully elevating his arm and making sure the autotourniquet remained on, hoping for his savior to kneel to his side. It was insane. The youth had never behaved like this before, not once in his entire life; but his soul was quiet and his flesh craved a release from the torment and pain. He felt like he was going to explode underneath that blanket. If his friend, Lando, weren’t going to do it, he would need to do it himself.

The wounded Jedi shrugged the blanket off to the side and sat up, smiling to the man, hoping that he would reciprocate his invitation. “I was wondering if you were gonna ask me about that. You could see that little guy struggling for thirty minutes now,” Lando grinned back as he teased him, accepting his offer, and kneeling downward and planting his lips onto Skywalker’s for a minute of pure bliss. To be kissed, not once, but twice, was nearly enough to be sent fully over the edge.

There was a connection hidden between these two men, lingering underneath the surface. They were both alone – they had lost an important friend, totally separated from their prized possessions, endlessly flailing into the abyss of space and praying for some form of a solution for crimes that they did knowingly commit. “Skywalker,” the man whispered to Luke, his fingers combing through his unkempt and matted hair, holding his head in position as he kissed him one more time.

His last name felt so strange to hear out loud. That name ran counter to the level of intimacy that the two men shared, instead scraping off his individuality and reminding him of the person that was more than just Luke, the farmer-turned-rebel-turned-Jedi. There were so many ugly layers and connotations to that surname of his, ones that had grown both mysterious and painful in the previous hours. If he was a Skywalker, that meant that he was also the son of – “Luke,” the rebel corrected, using his only hand to grip that of his partner. He kissed that hand and rubbed it against his cheek, noting how much larger Lando’s hand was around his own. Those brown eyes that stared back at him fluttered in confusion, the brow twisted upward as he waited for an explanation. The rebel youth smiled as forced Lando’s hand to slide down the green tanktop, slowing the pace as he continued to lower until both their hands were placed atop the crotch of his fatigues. “You can call me Luke.”

“Alright,” Lando smiled. “Luke, it is then.”

The boy grinned from the sensual tone of his name being called, double shots of pleasure being sent to his brain as he felt the hand massage the fabric that protected his aching member. “You can do it,” Luke whispered, rocking his head back as he closed his eyes in preparation for the freedom that awaited. The man’s hand carefully fingered his way up and unfasten the belt, unleashing a quick tug and dropping Skywalker’s pants to the floor, leaving him completely exposed.

Lando nuzzled his face against the front of Luke’s underwear, a small pair of white briefs that barely protected his modesty, which was just enough to make the wounded Jedi tremble. He bucked his hips back in response, tentatively awaiting for the first human touch other than his own to hold his sex, his legs lifting in response. There was so much that he wanted to shut out – so much physical pain, emotional torment, blended screeches of agony that hissed out in his brain if he dared think longer than for a second; this was what he wanted, no, needed. If being with Lando meant that he could momentarily escape the desperation and anguish, then that was an offer he was ready to accept. Luke wasn’t thinking at this point; he just wanted to act on instinct, wanted to shut out the burning throb that constantly grinded up and down his arm. His legs lifted further, his thighs practically touching the shoulders of the man before him. He had heard of sex – vaguely familiar of how it worked and curious of all that surrounds it. Luke wanted to feel it – wanted to feel a continuation of this deep passion and lust.

“Please,” he begged.

 Lando stayed still for a minute as he hesitated, unsure of what to do. He shook his head and declined, gently bringing down Luke’s legs back to the cot. “You’re wounded, kid. Watch out for your arm. You’ve gotta keep that thing elevated, Skywalker, or Leia is going to throttle me. I’m sorry, Luke. That last name of yours is just so memorable,” he apologized, his finger tracing the bulge in his briefs, as he continued to explain himself. “And I don’t think you are in the right mind or condition for that sort of thing. Not yet. I’m not against having a good time – especially not with one of the most handsome men this universe has ever witnessed - but when you’ve been around in this galaxy as much as I have, you get a sense of people and where they’ve been. I don’t think you’ve been there yet. This is a hell of a place to go there, too. I’ll give you this moment, Luke, and help you calm down and relax. After we get you all fixed up, you come find me if you still want to go through with it, and I can give you anything you want.”

“I think I’ll keep that promise,” Luke said, groaning in disappointment but understanding the words he heard. That was the thing – the “right time” felt like such a meaningless concept. The entire identity that Luke Skywalker had spent his life building up to had been turned on it’s head, reversed in such fateful totality that could easily lead someone down the path to ruin. He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to be okay or safe. Right now, in this little medical room, he just wanted nothing other than to escape his name. He wanted to be Luke, again; just a normal boy that wasn’t tied down to some epic irony of swirling Force. “Help me relax,” Luke coughed out urgently, the return of sorrow choking his throat. “Please.”

His rescuer smiled at him and nodded, dipping his hand into the confines of Luke’s underwear and slowly pulling them down to his mid-thigh. Luke blushed as his cock throbbed, twitching from the release of the fabric, firmer than ever before. The Jedi smiled as he watched his sex fit snuggly into the hand of his friend, his head barely peeking out of his fist. “You’re right,” Luke groaned, making direct and intent eye contact with the man. Those brown eyes looked to him with such compassion, such kindness. It wasn’t something he deserved, no, the trust that this man showed him made him feel deep shame; for his past and for his present. “This is the first time anyone else has done this to me.”

“Then I’ll make it worth your while,” Lando cocked a grin back his way and lowered his head, removing his hand from the flesh, and replacing it with the sweet suction of his lips. Luke cried out as he felt his foreskin slide up and down, bowing his head forward in acceptance as he felt warmth envelop his entire member at once. He had to bite down on his lip to avoid screaming out, his body writhing and jerking in a pleasure that he had quite never experienced before.

Luke cocked open his eyes carefully as he looked down at the man below him, enamored fully as he was unable to see his own manhood and could only catch the glimpse of Lando’s lips surrounding the full length of his sex, all four and a half inches, the mustache rubbing next to his brown curls that decorated himself.

“Lando,” whimpered out Luke, sweat dribbling down his forehead and swaying past his cheeks, glistening downward to the man below him. Everything seemed to go away the longer Lando kissed him – there wasn’t any more worry about the suffer and torture his friends endured in his name, no more dread of returning to his masters with nothing but failure to his name, no more terror of being directly related to the very thread of evil itself. Skywalker was gone here, oh, yes, yes he was. This was Luke’s time; the momentary freedom from shackles of the Skywalker name.

Those lips kept tugging at his skin, building up an intensity that Luke had never felt before in his twenty-three years. Everything had become so primal, in that instant, where nothing mattered but the two of them. “Lando,” he groaned again, his sex close to bursting. That wasn’t a feeling he was entirely unused to – but it was typically with his own left hand, not through the work of another. This was bigger, better, an addictive vice.

There was a build up inside Skywalker as those sweet lips accelerated, thrusting up and down his shaft. He could hardly muffle his own cries and moans as he felt the kiss against his flesh, all thoughts and fears sliding out of his skull as his brain slid down, and down, and down. There was nothing more important than this incredible pressure Luke felt in his penis – and it was about to blow.

Luke moaned one final time before he felt his body rocking back and forth uncontrollably, his manhood throbbing and the balls below it tightening as the lips continued sliding up and down. This was it – this was going to be that moment of release. He sat up higher as he lifted himself off the bed, moaning as he felt unfamiliar digits prod him from behind and inserting themselves into him. “I’m gonna,” he coughed out, but never had time to finish his sentence as blinding passion shot straight up to his head.

Lando pulled back as thick jets of his seeds shot out of his cock, flying around and spraying the room as the hand continued to jerk him back and forth. This was what Luke wanted; no, what he needed. Sweet release and the acceptance of his deepest passions. He felt himself buck and jerk back one final time, slowing down in intensity as he collapsed fully down onto the bed. Luke laughed in glee as he felt nothing but pure ecstasy, the highest high imaginable, and the physical and emotional pain totally washed away. The hand slid off of him carefully and allowing him to relax.

“Better?” asked Lando, who was brushing off a wide stain on the breast of his shirt. Ordinarily, Luke would have been embarrassed but feeling so close to another person made him nothing but happy and content. It wasn’t going to last forever – Luke sensed that and figured it would be but a momentary passing of bliss, but chose to hold onto it as much as he possibly could and let it linger around and within him.

“Better,” Luke grinned through sleep-addled eyes, hearing the sounds of a zipper and catching a glimpse of his rescuers sex through his blurred vision. Lando was clinging to himself, one hand gripped tightly to his sex, and the other wrapped around the Jedi’s left. He wished he could stay awake and help Lando as he had done for Luke. But his eyelids grew heavier, unable to stay awake. “I’m gonna hold you to that promise; because I want to do this again with you and because I owe you one now.”

“You got it, Luke.”

“Let’s stay with each other,” Luke whispered, his head nodding off, his head freed from the terrors, guilt, and sorrow that had swarmed them previously. If only for that moment, he felt separated from the Skywalker name. Luke was just Luke – a young rebel gifted in the ways of the Force. Maybe, he thought to himself, Lando was able to see himself in that light too; maybe he could free himself of his guilt and become his own person again.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, kid.”

 

 


End file.
